


make it last all year

by whittackers



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittackers/pseuds/whittackers
Summary: Enjolras wasn't in love with the tall, dark, handsome man with the glasses.AWhile You Were SleepingAU





	make it last all year

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for descriptions of unspecified illness and debt, coma, train accidents

Enjolras wasn't in love with the tall, dark, handsome man with the glasses.

 

That would be ridiculous.

 

They'd only exchanged a few words with each other: his morning commute to the hospital lining up daily with Enjolras's shifts, and Enjolras wasn't crazy. He merely admired the other man. Greatly.

His long, tedious shifts at the train fare booth probably would have made any handsome, interesting person, who showed him the slightest amount of kindness while he suffered through customer service hell seem loveable.

And if Enjolras couldn't help but notice how he always gave up his seat or his ear for those who needed it, how he always carried some fascinating book that Enjolras would imagine starting a conversation about, or how he never forgot to greet him as he entered the station - no matter how stressed he seemed to be, then it was only to be expected that occasionally Enjolras would while away the significant portion of his brain not spent on his tedious job with thoughts of running away with this man, eloping somewhere warm and sunny.

The image only became more enticing as Winter drew on, snow covering the station. The trains were often delayed from the weather, leading to more hostility and complaints directed towards Enjolras in the small booth he was crowded in, adding to the chill seeping into his very bones.

"Good morning,"

Enjolras looked up to the first smile he'd seen all morning. He took the man's token and, noticing the new book in his hands, commented, "Finished already?"

The other man pushed his glasses back up his nose as he answered "Finally,"

"Didn't you like it?"

"No, it was interesting. Definitely worth the read, like I told you, but I felt like reading something lighter - with Christmas around the corner."

There was a queue starting to form behind him, so the other man wished him a good day and walked away down the platform. Enjolras smiled as he left, the echo of it lingering as he turned to the next passenger.

He was distracted by the queue, so when he finally had time to look over again it was too late.

As someone began harassing one of the other passengers, Enjolras's bespectacled crush jumped up to intervene, only to be shoved over the side of the platform onto the train tracks below.

Enjolras forced the door to his booth open and took off at a sprint, all too aware of the platform's ticking clock, signaling the train about to pull into the station.

The attacker ran off as he approached. Enjolras gave a fleeting thought to chasing after him, but his attention was caught by the incoming train, hurtling closer. He glanced quickly over at the other passenger, relieved to find she seemed okay, if shaken, before turning back to the railway tracks.

He knew the train wouldn't be able to brake in time. There wasn't time to hesitate, or even to think. He jumped down from the platform and onto the tracks, kneeling beside the man to grip his shoulders, shaking him gently.

"Wake up, please! Wake up!"

The man didn't budge. His glasses had slipped down his nose, and there was a small trail of blood leading along his forehead. Enjolras could hear the train approaching, could feel the wind beginning to reach him and the vibrations of the metal train tracks, but he didn't dare look up. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him and with all his strength rolled the both of them into the gap between the platform and the track.

Barely a second later the train rushed past them, eventually grinding to a stop.

Enjolras could feel his heart pounding, hear himself panting. The man beneath him didn't even stir. Enjolras lifted off of him enough to move his head against the other man's chest, relieved to hear the drum of a heartbeat, before crawling all the way off and away from the train to get help.

The woman from the platform hurried over, relief flooding her face. "Are you hurt? Is he? I'm calling an ambulance." She whipped her phone out, and Enjolras went back to the other man's side. He couldn't tell what was wrong. The only visible sign of injury was the wound on his head, still bleeding, but Enjolras could tell it was small enough. Without thinking he linked their hands, fingers pressed against his pulse, the steady tap of it reassuring.

"Please wake up. Please be OK." Enjolras whispered. He waited by his side until the ambulance showed up.

 

They let Enjolras ride in the back of the ambulance. He sat there, stunned, for the drive, willing the man to regain consciousness. When they got to the hospital, however, they wheeled him down the corridor, and Enjolras could only watch, powerless. A nurse explained to him that she could only give details to family but he was welcome to wait in the visitor's room.

"But, I'm going to marry him." It slipped out, softly. Stupidly.

Enjolras sighed. He knew he should just go, but instead he headed for the visitor's room. No one should have to be alone in a hospital, Enjolras knew.

A couple of hours passed before a nurse approached him.

"You came in with Combeferre Callaghue, yes? You're the one who saved him?"

Enjolras had never learnt his name, but he pretended he recognised it and nodded. The nurse continued, "I really shouldn't be saying this, but I thought you should know his condition is stable."

"Can I  see him?"

"I'm afraid he can't have visitors yet. I'll try to keep you updated, though." She smiled at him, and Enjolras tried to echo it, before she returned to her station.

He only waited another twenty minutes before the nurse came back, this time with an older woman following her.

She smiled as she introduced him to the woman. "This is Mr. Callaghue's fiancé, and the one who saved him from the train. I thought you two might want to wait together."

"His fiancé? He never-" the woman interrupted herself. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Jacqueline, Combeferre's mother." Her voice came out shaky.

"I'm Enjolras," He held out his hand, ready to explain, when Jacqueline took his hand and pulled him into a hug.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much contact. It made his brain go fuzzy, and the words dissolved in Enjolras's mouth. She started speaking again before he could recover, guiding them both onto the visitor's chairs.

"Thank you so much for saving my son. I'm so glad he had someone with him. Someone who loves him. This isn't how I wanted to be meeting you, of course, but I'm so grateful you're here."

A wave of nausea swept over him, increasing with each of her sentences. Enjolras wasn't a coward; he could be terrible when he had to be, but he also wasn't heartless. He tried again to correct her, but Jacqueline spoke over him once more, calling across the visitor's room, "Oh, over here!" Two men hurried over, each hugging Jacqueline in turn. When they pulled away she introduced them.

"This is my husband, Jacques, and Combeferre's Godfather, Valjean. This is Enjolras, he's the one that pulled him out of the way of the train. Combeferre and he are going to be married, isn't that something?"

"Married? He never said anything about getting married." Jacques interjected, but he shook Enjolras's hand. "Congratulations, I guess. You're a real hero."

"I- uh. It wasn't-"

"An Angel." Jacqueline added. "Combeferre's Christmas Angel. Ours too. You must tell me all about you. When did you meet and 'Ferre meet?"

Enjolras answered honestly, "About three months ago, actually."

"Oh, that's very quick, isn't it?"

"You have no idea."

The older man - Valjean - turned to him, a gleam of suspicion in his eye. "Where did you say you two met?"

"Well, you know." Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck. "Excuse me."

He walked away, ignoring how abrupt he was being, and headed over to the nurse's station. The nurse looked up at him with sympathy. "I don't have any news yet, I'm afraid."

Enjolras tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he asked "Why did you tell them I was Combeferre's fiancé?"

"What? You're not? But, you said you were going to marry him."

"I- I didn't mean- We just see each other at the train station a lot."

The nurse looked up at him, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh, honey."

"What should I do?" Enjolras wasn't used to needing direction. He was used to situations like this even less, though.

Before he could say anything else, there was a tap at his shoulder.

"Young man - a word." Valjean gestured towards the corridor, his expression making it clear he'd overheard every word.

Enjolras felt a shiver down his spine, but he followed him until they'd reached a fair distance from the Visitor's Room.

Valjean turned on him. "Jacqueline and Jacques have been my very dear friends these past twenty years. I'd never let anyone hurt them."

"That wasn't my intention. This is just a misunderstanding - the nurse thought-"

Valjean interrupted him. "Son. This accident is going to be very hard on them, and I think it's our duty to make it as easy as we can for them."

"I agree-"

"Which is why you can't tell them the truth yet."

"...What?" Enjolras stood, stunned and confused.

Valjean explained, "Combeferre being injured - it's tragic. You might not know him, but he's a light to everyone who's lucky enough to have him in their life. His parents adore him, and yet, they're not crying, or panicking. Instead, they're bickering over ideas about wedding venues."

Enjolras gulped, but Valjean kept talking.

"My friend Jacques may seem strong, but he has a heart condition. If you can lessen his stress, even a small amount, I would be eternally grateful. And, once Combeferre wakes up, everyone will be so relieved, that the deception will be forgotten."

"This is insane." Enjolras studied the other man's face, for any sign he'd cracked.

"Look, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with, but if you have any room in your heart, this Christmas season, please, don't tell them yet. Not until Combeferre wakes up, and they have something real to be happy about."

Enjolras thought about it. He was already so entangled in this lie that he didn't relish the thought of having to admit the truth, and besides, it wasn't like this would cost him anything. He didn't have much else to do this time of year.

"I'll see. I mean, I'll do my best, to help them. If that means playing the part of Combeferre's fiancé..." Well, there were worse parts to play.

 

When they returned to the visitor's room, there was a whole crowd of people waiting for them. Everyone hugged Valjean first, and then Enjolras, when he'd been introduced. They started hounding him with questions, eager to hear about Combeferre's mysterious fiancé and saviour.

Enjolras soon noticed that Valjean was right. Instead of sitting about in silence, worrying about Combeferre, the talk was almost cheerful as Combeferre's visitors speculated on how Enjolras and he had met, and why he'd kept their relationship a secret. Enjolras couldn't bring himself to break the illusion. Not yet, anyway.

The nurse came back soon and notified them that Combeferre was doing well; his brain scans looked good, but he still hadn't regained consciousness. They were welcome to visit him, but there was a limit to two visitors at a time in the ICU.

Enjolras insisted Jacqueline and Jacques go, and they both hugged him again before leaving for Combeferre's room.

Enjolras thought briefly about using their absence as a chance to slip away, but Valjean was one step ahead of him. He made Enjolras exchange details, and secured his promise that he'd be present at the family Christmas party later that week.

***

Like for many people, the holidays were a difficult time for Enjolras.

They hadn't always been. Christmas used to be his favourite time of year. Seeing the world light up, the way people got a little kinder, a little more charitable, filled him with a warmth that would carry him through the cold season.

It had been a long time since he'd had that feeling.

Enjolras had thought the worst thing that would ever happen to him was getting sick. He hadn't imagined what would come after: the debt from the medical bills, his student debt from an abandoned degree, and the complete loneliness he was left with, struggling to survive on a minimum wage job that made him miserable. When Christmas came around, and the anniversary of his recovery with it, seeing other people and their loved ones share the festive season together, as he plugged on just trying to survive, only now in a different way: it would have brought down anyone's holiday cheer.

When the door to Combeferre's family home opened, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting from the halls, mistletoe hanging above a door frame lined with tinsel, and the sound of Christmas jazz in the distance, he felt an echo of a feeling he thought he'd lost forever.

Valjean ushered him through the threshold.

"Enjolras, I'm so glad you could make it. Come in, take off your coat."

Valjean led them down the hall and into the living room where everyone was gathered. The ICU Visiting Hours ended at 7p.m. that night, Enjolras knew, but he was still surprised at how many people were present.

In the centre of the room was a giant Christmas tree, glittering with lights and ornaments - Enjolras hadn't even known you could get trees that big - and hanging from the mantel, alongside the rest of the family's, was a stocking with his very own name on it. The sight of it squeezed at his heart.

Combeferre's mother - Jacqueline - got up to hug him as he entered. She noticed the direction of his gaze and explained "We wanted to do something special. Jacques and I aren't really big on Christmas, but you know how much Combeferre loves it. How much he'd appreciate us all, being here together."

"Of course. I think it's lovely." Enjolras smiled at her, and Jacqueline smiled back, a glimpse of it reaching her eyes for the first time in days.

"Let me introduce everyone." The room was crowded, everyone spread out around the tree. There were a few people Enjolras recognised from the hospital, but she introduced them again out of courtesy.

"This is Cosette, Valjean's daughter, and Eponine her girlfriend." They both gave him a good-natured wave before returning to their conversation, huddled close to each other. "Over there's Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, and that's Feuilly, Jean's nephew," she pointed out each of them, before a boy came darting past and out the door, trailing a line of tinsel and being chased by another man, laughing as he went. "That was Gavroche, Eponine's brother, and Feuilly's boyfriend, Bahorel." She walked them over to the other end of the room to introduce the last of the group. "And this is Marius, Cosette and Eponine's boyfriend. Javert, a friend of Jean's, my nephew Jehan, and over there is my other son, Grantaire."

Enjolras hadn't noticed the man in the corner, distracted by the chaos of the room. He studied him now, while Jacqueline was distracted by the crash of a lamp in Bossuet's direction.

It was hard to see any resemblance between the two brothers. Where Combeferre was neat, and trim, and classically handsome, there was something vague and rugged about Grantaire. Although, Enjolras couldn't fault him for looking wrecked, with his brother in the hospital. He was more surprised the rest of the room looked so put together, but the holidays had a way of holding people together when they'd otherwise be breaking apart. Enjolras felt strangely better knowing he wasn't the only one immune to this effect.

Grantaire stepped over to him, staring as he told him "You know, Combeferre never mentioned you."

Enjolras held steady under the force of his gaze. Before he could say anything Jacqueline interrupted.

"Oh, but we knew he was seeing someone. He never would tell us who. Though I didn't know you'd gotten engaged, of course. That certainly was a surprise. I was sure he would tell me, if things got serious."

Enjolras floundered a bit, picking up on the hint of sadness in her tone. "Well, it was very recent. You know how Combeferre loves Christmas. It just sort of... happened." Enjolras invented. _What was he doing?_

"And he was happy?"

She just looked so sad, and he was in deep already. "We were very happy."

"I'm glad." She smiled at him, small and earnest. "I'm looking forward to help with planning the wedding. Combeferre's going to be so pleased with all the organisation we can get done while he's… Well, we're just going to have to do what we can."

"I'd love that."

Enjolras was growing soft.

He excused himself, before he could make up anything else.

Even the bathroom had been Christmas-ified. Enjolras pushed aside a wreath of holly to lean against the bathroom sink, head in his hands. He didn't feel guilty, exactly. He was just finding the whole thing overwhelming. He splashed some water on his face and braced himself.

When Enjolras walked back out to the party, he moved with more confidence than he felt. Luckily, most of the people there were friendly, eager to talk to Enjolras and learn more about him. He soon found he was enjoying himself, though he couldn't help but catch Combeferre's brother - Grantaire - staring at him, his expression inscrutable.

He tried not to let it get to him, letting himself enjoy his first Christmas party in years.

***

Enjolras wasn't sure what made him return to the hospital after his shift the next day. It wasn't like there was any reason for him to visit, really. Combeferre had his family; he wouldn't be alone. Still, it wasn't like he had anything better to do that afternoon.

He should have known Combeferre's brother would be there already, when he entered. These days, it was just his luck.

"Oh, it's you." Grantaire looked up, but then turned back to his book. Enjolras took a seat next to the opposite side of the bed.

"Is there any change?" Enjolras asked after a minute.

"I told Combeferre I would admit to our parents about dyeing the dog pink if he would wake up and he didn't stir. He's still being blamed for that twenty years later, so I'm pretty sure he can't hear us."

"Combeferre never had a dog." Enjolras remembered him mentioning so, when Enjolras had come to work covered in dog fur and sleep deprived after agreeing to dog sit for his co-worker.

Grantaire looked over, then shrugged. "You're right. It was the cat."

Enjolras was silent another minute before he couldn't help asking "Is there a reason you don't like me?"

Grantaire looked thoughtful, "You're just- It's hard to believe Combeferre would keep you a secret." He nudged closer to the edge of his seat, as though willing Combeferre to wake up and explain.

"Is that _Revolutions_ playing? By Courfeyrac?" Enjolras asked, noticing the music. "Where's it coming from?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I brought some stuff in to see if Combeferre would rouse for it. You know how Courfeyrac's his favourite."

"He's mine, too."

"Of course he is." Grantaire rolled his eyes.

Enjolras stared at him, wondering. He wasn't sure what made him lean over and ask "Do you believe in love at first sight?" It was true that the more he learnt about Combeferre, the more compatible they seemed to be, and yet-

The door clicked open, and Jacqueline's voice cried out "Oh, hello." Enjolras quit his staring as Jacqueline greeted them, a bouquet of 'Get Well Soon' balloons in her hand. "I didn't know you'd be here today." Her husband followed close behind her. "Has there been any progress?"

"No." Enjolras couldn't think of a kinder way to say it.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure he'll wake up soon. It's only a matter of time." Her voice came out squeaky, as she sat in the chair by Combeferre that Grantaire had vacated for her, Jacques coming up behind her to take Combeferre's hand. Jacqueline said after a moment, "What do you think of a Spring Wedding? You don't have allergies do you?"

"No."

"I've been looking at floral bouquets all morning, but if there's something you're allergic to I'm sure they can make adjustments."

"That's… nice." Enjolras got up and walked over to the window. His silence was less obvious as Jacques caught Grantaire by the arm to ask him "Did you get the Hugo account?"

"Signed them last night."

"And the Smiths'?"

"Them too."

The nurse came over, looking regretful as she told them "I'm sorry, there's a maximum of two visitors at a time in the ICU."

Enjolras stood up, as Grantaire walked over to him, a palm extended.

"Come on blondie, let's leave them to it. A nurse told me it's customary for loved ones to give blood in situations like this."

Enjolras smiled awkwardly at him as he explained "I donated last week."

"Of course you did. Well, you can keep me company. I'm terrified of needles."

***

Lamarque was laughing at him over the phone. Enjolras listened without patience to the crackle of it coming out of the ear piece.

"It's not funny, what am I going to do?"

"Well, it's a little funny. For someone I've never seen be romantically interested in anyone, in all the time I've known you, you have to admit this is a comic turn of events. Just, let me get this straight - you're engaged to the coma patient?"

"His family thinks I am."

"And now you have feelings for the brother?"

"I don't know. I like talking to him. But - I like them all. The whole family. They're all so… What should I do?"

Lamarque sighed over the phone, but he could hear the screams of a tantrum growing behind her, and he already felt guilty for taking up her time.

"You're already in deep. You might as well see where it goes. Are you still coming in tonight?"

"Of course, I'm just about to leave."

"Great. I'll be able to give you a hug. You sound like you need one. Gotta run, I'll see you soon."

Lamarque hung up before he could say goodbye.

Enjolras put on his coat and scarf, and was opening his door to leave his apartment when he ran right into the new source of his troubles.

"Oh, hi." Enjolras stuttered, trying to keep his cool. "What are you doing here? Did something happen at the hospital?"

"No, nothing like that." Grantaire leaned against the doorframe as he answered. "I was just- in the neighbourhood. I got your address from Valjean, I hope you don't mind. I thought I'd show you those sources I mentioned yesterday, now I'm not delirious from blood loss."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "I'm just on my way out, actually."

"How convenient," Grantaire grinned at him. "You can just admit you were wrong, you know."

"No, really. I have a regular volunteer session at the youth centre downtown. Though if you're really desperate to keep discussing this, you could come with me."

"Really?"

"Of course. We can always use the extra help."

"I don't think I'd be much of that. Not that one person could be much help anyway. Why do you do that to yourself?"

The sadness underlying Grantaire's cynical tone was something Enjolras was all too familiar with. He thought out his answer for a long moment before replying "I might have very little power in this world, but I have more than some, and I'm going to do the most I can with what I've got."

"But the people who have the most, they're the ones who aren't doing anything. How can you stand it?"

"That's why it's even more important that we try to do something." Enjolras watched Grantaire's face fall, and quickly clarified. "I would never judge anyone who's struggling for not trying to improve the world. I know how hard it is, how unfair it can feel, but I could never be like that. I have to do what I can."

"You'll accomplish very little. So much less than others could."

"So?"

Grantaire stared at him. "Doesn't it make your blood boil?"

"Well yes," Enjolras snapped back. "That's kind of the point."

Grantaire stopped, considering. "Huh." Grantaire nudged him, lightly. "Well, if you put it that way - lead on, MacDuff."

Enjolras locked up his apartment, then led them out of the apartment building. Grantaire started walking towards his van, but Enjolras stopped on the sidewalk.

"I can drive us." Grantaire explained.

"It's not far - we can walk."

"It's freezing out, Enjolras."

"We'll walk quickly, it'll keep us warm. I don't like to drive when I don't have to."

Grantaire smirked at him. "Let me guess - because it's bad for the environment."

"Something like that."

Grantaire scoffed. "One car isn't going to stop the world from dying."

Enjolras started walking, backing away from Grantaire. "I'm walking. You can follow in your truck, if you want."

Grantaire didn't, of course. He raced over to catch up with him. "If I die of hypothermia, you're going to have to break the news to Combeferre."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "Here," He reached out with his gloved hand, and linked Grantaire's arm in his own, sharing the heat between them. "Stop being such a baby."

Grantaire pulled him closer, his fingers interlocking between his own, as he leaned against him. Enjolras changed the subject, to distract himself from the warmth that was spreading out from his hand into his chest, at Grantaire's touch. "What was that written on your van?"

"'Callaghue and son'? Combeferre never told you?" Grantaire tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I, uh, have kind of a shitty memory for such things."

"Right, well, that's my work van - my dad's company, although I'm kind of in the process of taking it over. It used to be just Callaghue, then Callaghue and sons, then Combeferre went off to be a doctor, so now its Callaghue and son. We're in the estate furniture business. We buy and sell furniture from dead people."

"No wonder you're such a cynic." Enjolras nudged him, lightly. "Sounds depressing."

"A job's a job, right."

Enjolras sighed. "Can't argue with that. Still, what would you be doing, if you had the choice?"

"I- uh. I'd like to sell my own furniture."

Enjolras hmmed. "Why don't you? Seems like it would be an easy enough transition."

Grantaire shook his head, gently. "It's my father's business. He built if for both his sons - to take over one day. Obviously Combeferre went on to bigger things, but I- I've been enough of a disappointment to him, already."

"I don't believe anyone would ever consider you a disappointment."

"Well, you didn't know me when I was younger. Hell, you hardly know me now."

"Even so."

"What about you? How did you end up working as a token collector? I've only know you a few days, and I can already tell you don’t belong there. Politician, maybe." Enjolras grimaced. "Or activist. Diplomat. Anarchist."

"Honestly," Enjolras replied after a moment, "there aren't many jobs available to a felon with no education."

"Oh…"

Silence fell between them as they walked along the snow-lined streets, until eventually Grantaire turned to him. "Why didn't Combeferre tell us about you? I can't work it out."

It wasn't hard for Enjolras to imagine. He was aware of what his life looked like from the outside, aware of what a poor life partner he would actually make, if this were real. "Maybe he was ashamed of me."

"If you think that, you really mustn't have known him at all."

Enjolras backtracked. "I just mean I'm not the kind of guy you'd bring home to meet your parents."

"And clearly you don't even know yourself."

Enjolras shoved him lightly, then grabbed at his arm before Grantaire slipped on the ice. "I mean it - a bankrupt ex-convict. Not exactly a parent's dream."

"My parents love you."

Enjolras shrugged, and Grantaire stopped them walking, tugging on his shoulder. "We all do. Come on, you must know the effect you have on people. You could make anyone fall in love with you. Besides 'Ferre wouldn't care about that."

Enjolras started walking again, not meeting Grantaire's eye. "Well, maybe it was me. Maybe I didn't want to meet _you_."

"Maybe?"

"I don't have a family, you know."

"Yes, you do." Grantaire said it so assuredly, it took a moment for Enjolras to work out what he meant. It took his breath away, but before he could get it back to speak, Grantaire added "You have Combeferre."

Enjolras shivered. "Yeah. Of course. Oh look, we're here." He strode across the street towards the youth shelter before Grantaire could say anything else.

***

Amazingly, Grantaire lost track of time while they were there. The kids were actually pretty cool, and though he couldn't contribute much to the operations side of things, he did manage to repair a few fixtures that had fallen out of place.

It was Enjolras who had to come find him, and tell him they were closing.

"You should come again with me, sometime." Enjolras commented, as Grantaire walked him back home. Grantaire gave a non-committal hum, surprised to find he was actually thinking about it. He walked Enjolras right back up to the apartment building door, treading down the path as Enjolras said "Be careful, there's an icy patch right-"

He didn't say it in time, as Grantaire flung out his hands to grasp at Enjolras, who wasn't exactly graceful in the best of circumstances.

They both went down.

Enjolras landed on top of Grantaire. They had been lucky, falling mostly into the snow bank that lined the path and missing the icy pavement, but the wind was still knocked out of them.

Enjolras lay on top of him, their bodies lined up, fitting together. It was all Grantaire could do to keep from gazing at his lips, from leaning in, and closing the distance between them. It was an eternity before Enjolras pulled away, managing to right himself, and holding a hand out for Grantaire.

"-right there. I've been on my landlord about it for weeks but-"

"It's fine, all good." Grantaire scampered up, avoiding Enjolras's eyes. "I'll see you later, I guess." He took off back to his van.

 

Later that night, Grantaire went back to the hospital.

The ICU was quiet at that time of night. The lights dim, and the only noises were the ones coming from the medical machines that surrounded him, and the distant hum from the Nurse's station. Technically, visiting hours were over, but maybe because he looked like he needed it, or because this was Combeferre's hospital, and these were his friends, no one had asked him to leave.

"You're folding?" Grantaire asked his unconscious brother. "Well, that's an interesting move. Looks like I win again." Grantaire reached for the pot that had accumulated between them, but instead of collecting the cotton buds he was using for chips, he threw down his cards in disgust, his head falling into his hands.

"What am I doing?" he murmured into them. "You know, now would be a great time for you to wake up." He pulled his head back up, looking for any sign of life in his brother.

He didn't even know what he was supposed to be looking for. The doctors had explained it could be inconsequential if he opened his eyes, or responded to stimuli. To be honest, the doctors didn't sound like they knew what to look for either.

Combeferre would, if he were awake.

He was the best doctor in the world.

"You know, I should have been mad when you went into medicine." Grantaire said to the dark. "Like you weren't enough of an overachiever already. Doctor Combeferre, saver of lives. 'Why can't you be more like your brother,' right? But I was never envious of you, because you deserved it all: the praise, the achievements and accolades. To me, you've always been the best person in the world. You deserved everything you got."

Grantaire took a shuddering breath. "Well, I never envied you. Until tonight. And the thing is, even now, you're the one I want to talk to about this. So, it would be really nice, if you would just wake up now."

 

Combeferre slept.

***

Enjolras woke up Christmas Eve morning to a banging at his door.

Between his shifts at the train station, volunteering, the chaos of Christmas approaching - with presents he suddenly found himself needing to buy this year - and being dragged off to a hundred family gatherings and hospital visits, he had been looking forward to his day off, but he couldn't stay annoyed as he trudged out of bed and opened the door to Grantaire's voice behind a sizeable Christmas tree saying "I noticed you didn't have one of these yet. I know Combeferre would have forced one on you by now, so I did it for him. Where should I put it?"

"Uh," It was way too early for this. "Over there is fine." Enjolras gestured vaguely, opening the door further so Grantaire could come through. It wasn't like there was a lot of free space to choose from, and Enjolras wasn't aesthetically minded to begin with.

When Grantaire had set up the tree, moving it a couple times until he was satisfied, he turned to Enjolras.

"I don't have any decorations, or anything." Enjolras had gotten rid of all he had last Christmas, donating them to the hospital.

"Huh. I didn't think of that. Still, trees are nice."

Enjolras looked at him incredulously.

"No, really, they are. And they smell nice."

Enjolras had to concede that point. Grantaire was still staring at him strangely.

"What?"

"I got you something else, too. An Engagement Present. But I'll need your help getting it out of the truck."

Enjolras dutifully followed Grantaire downstairs, and watched as he rolled up the back opening and stepped into the van, pulling Enjolras up with a hand.

"It's over here." Grantaire stopped in front of a love-seat. Hand carved. The grain a blend of white and brown that twisted in loops across the back.

"It's beautiful." Enjolras's hands traced over the wood, gently. He looked up at him. "You made this?"

"Of course."

"I can't accept it." He realised with regret, then added before Grantaire could argue "We should wait, until Combeferre wakes up."

"Oh." Grantaire's face turned grey. "Of course you're right. Here, I'll walk you back up."

"You don’t have to-"

"I don't trust you not to fall again."

Enjolras scoffed, indignant. They'd reached his door, Enjolras's mind's eye still tracing the carved wood, making him ask "Why haven't you told your father you want to leave the business?"

"That's - complicated."

These past few days - Enjolras was sick of complicated.

"Only because you're making it so. Why can't you just be honest with him?"

Grantaire spluttered. "What do you want from me, Enjolras? What's this to you?"

"I- I want you to be happy."

"What do you know about happiness?"

Enjolras stepped away from him, something odd building within his chest. "You know, not everyone is in a position to just be able to follow their dreams. Maybe you owe it to the rest of us."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I have some idea." Enjolras shook his head. "Forget I said anything. You can do what you want." He moved to go back into his apartment.

"No." Grantaire stepped closer to him. He still seemed angry, but his words came out as barely more than a whisper. "When are you going to start fighting for your own life?"

Grantaire was too close.

Enjolras exhaled, deeply. "You have no idea, what it's like to be alone."

Grantaire stepped even closer, but Enjolras didn't back down.

Something in Grantaire seemed to shift as he found his words. "You're not alone, Enjolras. You have Combeferre."

"I don't have anybody."

The tension that had been so thick between them dispersed as Grantaire stared at him.

"Enjolras, I…"

Enjolras's phone went off.

The moment between them broken, Enjolras turned away, putting a few steps between them to pull the phone from his pocket.

"It's the hospital."

Enjolras answered the call.

***

Combeferre was conscious for only a few minutes the first time he woke. The second time, as he returned to the land of the living, he looked up to see most of his family gathered at his bedside.

But, someone was missing.

"He's awake! It's a Christmas miracle!" He recognised his mother, as her voice let out the exclamation, and he smiled weakly at her. He looked through the relieved faces that surrounded him: his mother, his father. Valjean. Cosette and Feuilly.  His brother. The guy from the train station. Jehan.

_Wait._

His eyes scanned back, confused.

"What are you doing here?"

The rest of the room blinked.

"Sweetie," His mother whispered. "Don't you recognise Enjolras?"

Combeferre studied the face harder, his brain finally connecting who was missing. "Where's Courfeyrac?"

"'Ferre what do you mean? Do you mean the musician you like? Jacques, he wants to hear the CD, where did you put it, R?"

"Ma, I don't think that's what he wants." Grantaire stared at his brother.

"What happened? Where am I? Where's Courfeyrac?"

"I'm getting the doctor." Jacques declared, whilst Combeferre stared at Enjolras's face, his foggy brain trying to make him fit.

"Combeferre," Jacqueline said, soft yet alarmed, "This is your fiancé Enjolras. Don't you remember him?"

"It must be amnesia," Cosette declared.

"Amnesia?" Jacqueline cried out. "Come on, 'Ferre, don't you remember Enjolras?"

It wasn't that he didn't recognise him, it was just that he couldn't make sense of what he was doing here.

"Courfeyrac is my boyfriend. I don't know this man."

Jacques exclaimed to the doctor as he came over, "He thinks he's dating a pop star! He doesn't recognise his own fiancé, but he thinks he's dating Courfeyrac, the musician, of all people."

The doctor shone a light in Combeferre's eyes. Combeferre didn't recognise him. He must be new at the hospital. How long had he been asleep?

"Try not to panic, Mr. Callaghue. Confusion and amnesia are very common symptoms of a head injury, and they're nearly always temporary."

"I know." Combeferre leant his head against his pillow. "I'm a doctor."

"Is that true?" The doctor asked Jacques.

"Yes!"

"OK, just had to check. We're going to run some more tests, but your responses are looking very good."

"Can I go then?"

"You said you were a doctor, right? We're going to need to keep you under observation for a while."

Combeferre sighed.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of medical tests. Sensing he needed it, Grantaire ended up hijacking his wheelchair, letting Combeferre have a few moments quiet while he tried to process everything.

Grantaire took them to the hospital courtyard. It was mostly deserted, due to the recent snow, but he was warm enough under Grantaire's coat that it wasn't uncomfortable.

"So, this is weird huh." Combeferre commented, as they sat at one of the courtyard tables. "What happened?"

"Well, you were asleep a long time. You lost a lot of games of poker."

Combeferre snorted. "I'll bet."

"Yeah, you did. I think technically I own your car now. Don't worry, I'm willing to rent it back to you at a very reasonable rate."

"I'm sure. I think we're due for a rematch, though. Have you got a deck handy now?"

Grantaire slid the small deck he carried with him out of his pocket. It was something he and R had always done, filling the spaces where they were stuck together - road trips, waiting for their mother to get off the phone so they could leave the house, dinners with _Dad's side_ of the family - with spontaneous rounds of poker, and the familiarity made Combeferre feel somewhat better.

"Jellybeans as chips?" Grantaire asked, gesturing to one of the packets that had been given to him as get well gifts.

"Those are my healing jellybeans. Get your own."

"I'll bring you some new ones."

As he focused his attention on dealing out the cards, Grantaire mumbled "I'm really glad you're awake, you know?"

Combeferre touched his hand. "What is it?"

Grantaire waited until the cards were laid down, before he looked back up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"There's something you're not telling me. It's not just about the coma, is it? R?"

"It's your bet." Grantaire sighed. "You shouldn't be worrying about me. Don't you have enough to worry about?"

"I'll always worry about you. You're my little brother."

"By five minutes." The familiar argument soothed something in Combeferre's soul.

"So, Ma tells me I'm apparently getting married?"

"You still don't remember Enjolras?"

"Nope. What's he like?"

Grantaire said nothing for a long moment, pretending he was studying his cards, before he finally answered. "He's... interesting. He's really, really interesting to talk to. Like infuriating, yes, he never lets you win a fight, but by the end of it most of the time you don't even notice that you've started agreeing with him. He's just so smart, smarter than you almost, and even though he's smarter than basically everyone he meets, he never makes you feel stupid. Never judges anyone for anything. Fundamentally, he's just a really good person. He'd do anything just to make someone's life easier. He makes you believe like you could be good too. Like you could do anything."

Combeferre stared at him. "Interesting."

"I, uh." Grantaire stood up abruptly. "We better get back to the room."

Grantaire hugged him quickly before wheeling Combeferre back to his room.

***

Grantaire woke up the next day - Christmas morning - on his parent's couch. It seemed Santa hadn't managed to find him here, but then maybe he'd already gotten his present this year. His brother was alive, and awake, and though he inexplicably carried a blind spot in his memory, and though there was still an ache in Grantaire's chest that hadn't dislodged itself even as Combeferre woke up, he still had a lot to be grateful for this Christmas.

With Combeferre awake, the whole family was meeting at the hospital for their Christmas celebration. His mother had been baking through most of the night whilst the rest of the family slept, though there wouldn't be room for a proper Christmas lunch at the hospital. Combeferre had been moved out of the ICU and into a private room where more visitors were allowed, but the room was still too small with everyone present to sit down and eat. That hadn't stopped his mother from cooking up a storm.

Enjolras came down the stairs as Grantaire entered the kitchen, making himself some coffee.

"Good morning."

Enjolras mumbled something back, searching for his own cup, but Grantaire got the sentiment. His mother had insisted Enjolras spend Christmas Eve at their house, after he tried to part ways at the hospital last night. Enjolras was bleary-eyed as he continued to search, until eventually Grantaire took pity on him, pouring him a cup.

The two of them sat at the table drinking their coffee, as they waited for the others to wake up. It was unbearably domestic.

"'Taire," His father called out to him from the back porch.

Having decided to have a certain conversation with his father, he was still only the second to last person Grantaire wanted to face right now: but he would take it. He couldn't bear another minute of the comfortable, perfect silence that was building between him and Enjolras.

His father called again, "'Taire, come and help me with this firewood."

Grantaire shrugged at Enjolras, certain if he'd been any more awake at this moment, he'd be clamouring up to help as well.

"A Merry Christmas to you too, Pa." Grantaire said as he came over to him.

"What? Oh, yes, son." He patted Grantiare's shoulder in the approximation of a Christmas greeting.

When they finished putting the wood away, Grantaire lingered on the porch, wondering if it wouldn't be better to go back inside and face Enjolras instead, but eventually he muttered "Dad, can I have a word?"

Jacques sat down on the back porch seat, gesturing for Grantaire to do the same.

"I need to talk to you-"

"Is this about the business? I know Lonnie in accounts can be a bit of a stickler, but he's been with us so long, he's practically family now."

"It's not about the business. Well, it is, but nothing's wrong."

"Then what is it?"

Grantaire took a deep breath, before he exhaled "Just this week, I've sold two beds, a table, and that rocking chair I showed you. Furniture I've made. I have another two commissions ready to be shipped next week."

"That's great, son! A great side business. I'm very proud of you."

"It's not- it's not a side business. It's... I have enough commissions lined up to be busy until the end of February. I know, you want me to keep the family company, and I'm grateful that you've trusted me to take over, but this is what I want to do. This is what I'm meant to do."

Grantaire's father didn't say anything right away, but eventually he leaned forward, steepling his fingers together, his elbows resting on his knees. "Well, I really wish you'd told me earlier. Feuilly's been trying to get me to sell the company to him for years now. I only refused because I wanted you to have security."

"What? You're not- disappointed?"

"I think it's great you want to build something of your own. You know, I've always worried about you. Your brother I've never worried about, but you always found life a bit harder, I know. The business was for you. It's my job to take care of you. But you've found your feet, and I'm proud of you. I always have been. You know that, right?"

Grantaire couldn't respond, but his father didn't expect him to. Jacques patted his arm awkwardly, before standing up. "Come on, we better go get dressed. Combeferre will kill us if we're late for the party."

***

Valjean had promised he'd be the one to tell everyone the truth. Valjean had told no one the truth.

As Jaqueline strung tinsel across the hospital bed, and put on carols in the background, Enjolras stood awkwardly in the corner, waiting to be found out.

Combeferre kept staring at him. The family assumed it was for the obvious reason, but Enjolras was starting to sweat.

Jacqueline had brought in food for Combeferre. The rest of them had eaten beforehand - it wasn't practical to host a full Christmas dinner in the tiny hospital room, but the feeling: everyone gathered, sharing each other's company, was better than any Christmas dinner Enjolras had ever been to, despite the anxiety seeping all the way down to his toes.

When the conversation finally lulled, and Combeferre had been almost caught up to all he'd missed while he was sleeping, Combeferre spoke up.

"Would you mind if I talked to Enjolras alone, for a bit?"

"Of course sweetie. We'll just pop down to the cafeteria for a bit, let you two have your moment." Jacqueline kissed his forehead before ushering everyone out of the room. Enjolras cast a desperate glance at Valjean as he left, but the older man only shrugged, giving Enjolras a covert thumbs up. He didn't miss the way Grantaire lingered on his way out the door but soon Combeferre and he were left alone. Enjolras bravely turned towards him.

Combeferre leaned forward. "So, my parents say we're engaged. The doctors think I'm confused. Why don't you tell me what's really going on? This isn't some kind of scam, is it?"

"Of course not. Combeferre, I…" Enjolras sank into the chair next to the bed. "I'm not your fiancé. I never meant for anyone to think that I was, and I'm beyond sorry if I've made you doubt your own mind, or interfered with your recovery in any way."

Combeferre let out a long breath. "Why would you do this?"

"I just- the nurse misunderstood something I said, and she told your mother, and she didn't really give me the chance to explain."

Combeferre snorted. "Well, that I can believe."

"And Valjean said your father had a heart condition, and well, I guess I just got caught up in it all. Having a family for Christmas. I…"

Combeferre caught his hand.

"Hey, it's OK. Just breathe."

It was a gesture of kindness that was almost unbelievable. Enjolras had lied to him, lied to his family, and still Combeferre found it in him to be kind. He really was the perfect guy.

They were interrupted suddenly, as the door burst open and another man rushed in, Combeferre's family peeking into the room behind him.

"What's going on?" Jacqueline cried out, as Cosette exclaimed, "Is that Courfeyrac? The pop star?"

"Combeferre, I've found you. You're all right!"

Combeferre pulled his hand out from Enjolras's. Courfeyrac barely noticed, taking Enjolras's place at Combeferre's bedside, and pulling their foreheads together.

"I'm so sorry- I was so worried. You didn't answer your phone and I didn't know where you were, and I couldn't find you. What happened?"

"I'm so sorry, Courf. I've been sleeping. I never should have made us keep this a secret." Combeferre kissed him, quickly, before resting his forehead against Courfeyrac's again. "I was in an accident. They said I fell down onto the tracks at the train station. I've been in a coma, Courf."

"Oh, fuck." Courfeyrac hugged him tight, the rest of the room looking on in confusion, as the questions started up.

"What's going on?"

"Who is that?"

"Combeferre's cheating on Enjolras with a rock star!?"

"What?" Courfeyrac asked. "Who's Enjolras?"

The room dissolved into a cacophony of confusion and disbelief.

Eventually, Combeferre cried out over the noise, "Stop. Enjolras is not my fiancé. Everyone calm down."

If Combeferre thought that statement would be reassuring, he was very wrong. The questions only grew louder, Grantaire's voice echoing out above the rest that finally made the room go quiet, waiting for an answer. "Enjolras, what does he mean?"

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"I…" Enjolras looked around at the faces before him, dread piercing his heart as he said "I lied. Combeferre and I, were never engaged."

There was silence in the room, making it all the harder to admit "I lied to all of you. There was a misunderstanding, and I was just trying to make things easier, while you waited for Combeferre to wake up. No," Enjolras  cut himself off. "That's a lie as well."

It was a lie he had been telling himself, this whole time, but Enjolras was done being a coward.

He took a deep breath before continuing. "I've been alone for so long - my whole life, pretty much - but I never realised before how- I never realised how _lonely_ I was. I never meant any of this to happen, I promise. But you all took me in, and made me part of your family. You were so kind, and caring, and _good_ , and I fell in love with all of you." Enjolras carefully avoided Grantaire's gaze. "I was selfish. I wanted to keep that, and I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt any of you."

There was a stunned silence that fell over the room, as everyone processed what Enjolras was saying.

Eponine was the one to break it. "Wait, but what is Courfeyrac doing here? I mean, I'm not hallucinating right. You all see the famous guy kissing 'Ferre on the bed?"

Combeferre broke apart to answer her. "Courf and I are really dating. I didn't tell any of you, because I didn't want to deal with the drama, and the paparazzi. I made a huge mistake. Courf, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'm just glad you're OK. I didn't know what happened. I thought you were just ignoring me at first, but you weren't at your apartment, and then I got the idea to call the hospitals, and I finally found you."

"What, you're dating a rock star?" Gavroche interrupted. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Who is that?" Marius asked Cosette, softly.

"How did you two even meet?"

As Combeferre's family filled the room once more with their questions, Enjolras slipped out of the door, not looking behind him.

***

He had work the next day. As heavy as his heart was, as hard as it was to get up in the morning, Enjolras managed somehow to pull himself out of bed, and make it to work.

"Morning, Enj." Enjolras's colleague greeted him as Enjolras showed up to replace him. Enjolras could barely muster up a weak smile for him, before he slunk down into the toll booth.

He probably made several commuter's days a little bit worse, his customer service façade continually slipping away as the day dragged on, a rush of cold sleet pounding the booth's roof, adding just a little more misery to his outside, along with his insides.

He needed to snap out of this. He wasn't this person. He had never allowed himself to give in to despair before now. But, stuck in the toll booth as he was, he had all too much time to think about the days stretching before him, that he'd have to face alone, once more.

He would be okay. He knew he would be okay. His life was still the same as it had been before, and he had managed then. He would manage again. He would just have to learn how to carry the memories in his heart, of what it felt like to have a family.

The station was mostly dead, as Enjolras counted down the minutes until the end of his shift. So he could what? Go home to an empty apartment. Scrounge up some food and fall into bed?

He let his head rest against his forearms, when the trinkle of a token hitting the tray caused him to look up.

Huh.

Where there was supposed to be a token, there was a ring instead. A plain gold band, sitting innocuously on the stainless steel collecting tray.

His gaze continued upwards, to find Grantaire, and the whole Callaghue family there behind him, Combeferre excepting. He looked back down at the ring in his tray again, and then back up at Grantaire, and waited for his brain to start processing again.

"Can I come in?" Grantaire asked.

"...Do you have a token?" Enjolras was hardly aware of what he was saying. He felt like he was floating.

Grantaire reached for his pocket and slammed down a token, and Enjolras buzzed him through. Grantaire entered the booth, his hands reaching for Enjolras's, the contact causing a rush of warmth along his arms, and the air to fall from Enjolras's lungs.

"Oh,"

"Enjolras,"

He struggled to breathe again, watching as Grantaire dropped to one knee, just managing to fit within the small booth.

"Please know that regardless of your answer, you'll always have a place in our family. You saved Combeferre's life. And more than that, we've all grown to love you. All of us. But regardless, I would appreciate it very much, if you would do me the honour of marrying me."

Enjolras didn't wait for him to finish, pulling him up from his knees, and into a crushing kiss, as he wrapped his hands around Grantaire and pulled him closer.

"So, is that a yes?" Jacqueline called from outside the booth, making Enjolras blush as he looked over to them.

"Of course." He smiled, putting some space between him and Grantaire, but his hand trailed down to link their fingers. Enjolras thought he should say something else, but his words failed him. His brain was still foggy, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face, his heart warm once more.

* * *

 

The party was well past buzzing when Enjolras arrived. He was late, he knew, but he'd gotten distracted, looking through online courses he was eligible to sign up for, and he'd lost track of the time. He had made it before midnight; that was the important thing, right?.

Grantaire was in the kitchen, mixing drinks. Enjolras hadn't sought him out, exactly, bypassing the drunken greetings as he made his way through the house. He needed to get a drink, after all.

"What are you making?" he said to Grantaire's back, who swung around, the movement clumsy enough that Enjolras knew he was well beyond tipsy. It was New Year's Eve after all.

"You're here! Finally!" Grantaire hugged him, his arms wrapping right around him, so that Enjolras was bundled up in his arms. He wondered if he'd ever get used to this feeling: of being held. It still made his skin shiver and spark, and his heart glow.

"Hi Enjolras," Combeferre waved to him from behind Grantaire's back. He had been released from the hospital only that morning, just in time for New Year's Eve, his hands intertwined with Courfeyrac's. Enjolras still couldn't believe that part of all of this. He still had to suppress the urge to fanboy out whenever he saw Courfeyrac, which was happening quite a lot, already. Grantaire had started to tease him about it, at the way Enjolras had been gushing about the other two to his fiancé. The three of them were already close to inseparable, their daily brunch and political discussions in the hospital cafeteria becoming routine, as Combeferre waited to be released.

Eventually Grantaire let go of him, but he linked their hands together, and started working on a cocktail for Enjolras, one-handed. He only broke their contact  to hand Enjolras his drink, the glass clinking against the ring on his finger.

Enjolras changed the drink to his other hand, so his thumb could trace the gold band.

Grantaire caught him at it, and grabbed his hand again, pulling it up to kiss.

"You know, I had thought you were a pessimist." Enjolras commented. "It was pretty brave of you - proposing to someone you'd only known a few weeks."

Grantaire smiled at him. "Well, you did agree to marry a complete stranger after all. I felt my odds were pretty good."

Enjolras shrugged. He had a point.

"Besides, I couldn't let all of my mother's wedding planning go to waste."

Enjolras's eyes widened at the thought. Throughout the tense moments spent at the hospital, Enjolras had started just agreeing to all of Jacqueline's ideas, not paying too much attention to a wedding that was never going to happen.

Grantaire laughed at him.

Behind him, Enjolras could hear the New Year count down starting. He turned around to look at the others, as everyone started chanting. Gavroche was yelling out random numbers to throw people off. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had skipped the countdown altogether, and had jumped straight into making out. Cosette, Marius, and Eponine were all holding hands in a circle as they counted along, though Marius looked like he wasn't quite sure what was happening around him. The older generation had disappeared somewhere, leaving the rest of them to their revelry. The rest of his friends - and they were his friends, though Enjolras still had a hard time wrapping his head around it - were crowded onto the balcony, waiting for the fireworks to start.

They'd reached the end of the countdown when Grantaire reached for his chin, turning him back to face him, and leaning in till their lips met.

They broke apart, just enough for Grantaire to whisper "Happy New Year," against his lips.

Enjolras couldn't help but agree.


End file.
